


The Sister of Scout

by Zombie2315



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, Hints to sex, Romance, Secret Relationship, Siblings, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9125914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombie2315/pseuds/Zombie2315
Summary: Scout's younger sister is the most recent addition to the RED team, meeting and befriending every member and getting a little too close to a certain Frenchman, in Scout's opinion. After a long talk over drinks, the two continue to become closer, especially since (Y/N) now has someone to talk to about her BLU Spy of a father.(I never really write descriptions, so please, don't judge the story on the quality of the description. Some suggestive themes are made in this story so if you're not comfortable with that then this isn't really for you.)





	1. Meet Them All

**Reader’s POV**

 

“I guarantee, (Y/N), you’re going to fit right in with them, they may even like you more than Scout.”

 

“Well, it’s not hard to be more likable than Scout,” I chuckled.

 

Miss Pauling was kind enough to offer me a ride to the base – for starters, I didn’t know where it was besides out in the desert, and secondly, I really wanted to talk to the woman after hearing so much about her in my brother’s letters. Honestly, I can see the appeal: She was smart, cute and wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.

 

She quietly laughed at the jab towards my older sibling and focused on the dirt road ahead. I can already tell that the heat out here is going to be a pain, but as of today, I’m a mercenary, I’m going to have worse problems than the heat every now and then. The drive there only took about two hours, my curiosity peaking when we turn into a space between some rocks, the space covered by a very obvious cloth with desert imagery on it. The building seemed larger than I expected, one tall white one with the words ‘RED’ painted in the respective colour and smaller white buildings surrounding it on each side. Pauling pulled up in front of the base before killing the engine and stepping out of the vehicle.

 

“The team’s on cease-fire for the next couple days, so that’ll give you the chance to settle in and meet everyone. I’m sure it won’t be difficult since you obviously already know Scout and you’re easy to get along with; I’ll check in in about a week to see how you’re doing and you should be set,” she smiled brightly at me, a hint of reassurance in her eyes. I may not be particularly nervous about joining the team, but it’s still a big step to take and I appreciate her concern.

 

“Thanks, Miss Pauling, I’m glad to be working with you. Oh, and thanks for the ride,” I grinned before hearing the sound of an opening door, turning to see none other than Scout. He waved over to the two of us as he raced over to us, looking more at the woman at my side.

 

“Hey sis! Glad you’re finally here!” he exclaimed, hugging me tight, although it didn’t last long before he turned to Miss Pauling, greeting her and attempting to hold a conversation – emphasis on attempting, because she was already heading back to the car we arrived in. After awkwardly standing still in silence he finally lets her leave and watches her leave while I cover my mouth with the tips of my fingers, hiding my laugher as to not offend the poor guy.

 

“Oh, yeah!” Scout turns to me, “C’mon, I gotta introduce you to the guys!”

 

Entering the building I released a breath, scanning the grey walls of the long hallway, it felt so empty. That though wasn’t in my mind long, however, as the booming laughter of who I presumed to be a fellow teammate bounced off the pale walls. We came to the wide doorway of what looked like a common room, housing two long sofas, a couple armchairs, a coffee table in the middle, a small T.V. against the wall and a round table and chairs at the back. Sitting at that table I saw four men, one in a white lab coat and red gloves, a dark-skinned man with an eyepatch, a shorter man wearing a hardhat and protective goggles, and lastly a skinnier man adorning a brown hat decorated with what looked like sharp teeth. In the centre of the room were three men, on one sofa was a very large bald man and another who wore a metal helmet, both watching the tiny television in front of them while someone in what seemed like a hazard-safety suit sat in an armchair, playing around with a little silver lighter.

 

Including Scout, that meant there were only eight men in sight, although I’m not positive on the hazard-suit person… He could be a she, or she could be a he. But still, where is number nine?

 

“Guys! Hey, come meet my sister, she just got here!” Scout announced loudly, ensuring that everyone present would hear, “Damn it, where the hell is Spy? Whatever, you’ll meet him later,” he muttered the last part, I assume mostly to himself.

 

Everyone had gotten up from their places to come greet me, some looking a little passive about the situation and others smiling as they shook my hand.

 

“(Y/N), this is Sniper, Medic, Pyro, Demo, Engie, Soldier and Heavy. Everyone, this is (Y/N), my little sister and our new teammate!” Scout grinned proudly.

 

“Aye! Is the lass finally ‘ere to replace ye?” Demo clapped a hand on Scout’s shoulder as he held his stomach from the force of his laughter.

 

Scout let out a sarcastic laugh as he pushed the larger man’s hand away, “Oh ha ha. Good one,” he scowled, “Guys, where’s Spy at? I wanted to introduce you all at once, but he ain’t here.”

 

“Bonjour, mademoiselle,” a smooth French voice spoke from behind me, “I apologize for being late, I wasn’t aware you had arrived,” every word made me feel frozen on the spot, the one man I had really anticipated meeting, it was time to face him.

 

Turning my head slightly faster than my body, so I would meet his eyes before fully facing him, I registered the dark red mask that matched his red-tinted suit, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth and his height that stood about a head taller than myself. If I didn’t have reason besides the mask to be slightly suspicious of him, I would say he was nothing less than captivating.

 

“Hi, I’m (Y/N), Scout’s sister,” I reached a hand out to politely shake his, however he changed it up slightly by raising my hand to his lips, pressing them just above my knuckles.

 

Keeping eye contact with me, he stated: “A pleasure.”

 

An awkward cough came from my right side and when I turned to it I saw Scout, glaring daggers at Spy as he released my hand, “Why don’t we all sit down? Let the guys get to know you, sis,” he was looking at me now, a somewhat strained smile on his face.

 

And that’s what we did for the next few hours of the day, I answered questions that the team asked while I listened to some of their personal stories, mostly about their home countries and families. While Heavy was reminiscing over his mother who currently resided in Russia, my thoughts drifted to my own parents, particularly my father. It wasn’t too long before my eyes drifted towards Spy, leaning back in an armchair and taking a drag of a newly lit cigarette, seemingly in his own world.

 

“Hey, (Y/N), that reminds me, how’s Ma doin’? I haven’t spoken to her in a while.”

 

My attention was quickly brought to my brother, seated across from me on the opposite sofa, “She’s good, misses you a lot, made me swear that I’d make you write to her soon,” I chuckle near the end, knowing that he’d get a letter written ASAP lest he be on the receiving end of a smack next time he visits.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get on it before cease-fire’s up,” he chuckled, “She’s gotta be lonely now, without us at home. Might be a little happier if dad hadn’t disappeared,” the passive attitude wasn’t as strong as he had probably hoped it would be, I could still see the solemnness in his words.

 

“Yes, your father disappears often,” Heavy muttered from beside Scout.

 

“What? No! Our dad’s dead! We don’t have a dad!” Everyone sat in silence for a moment, “He is dead. It is a painful memory, of a thing that actually happened, to a man none of us have ever met. So let’s stop talkin’ about it!”

 

Just like earlier, I hid behind my hand so Scout wouldn’t see the small grin. Had he understood what Heavy meant, he may have laughed. But, unfortunately, I was the only one of us that really understood. What I didn’t notice was the glance Spy had thrown my way, observing my small grin from an angle where he could clearly see it.

 

This brought up a few questions in the man’s mind, ones that would undoubtedly be answered in time.


	2. Curious Conversation

**Reader’s POV**

 

A week had passed since I arrived at the base, meaning that cease-fire had already ended and I was introduced to the battlefield. Like Scout, my primary weapon was melee – a metal baseball bat that Scout had lovingly bought as a present for joining the team. My secondary was a 9mm desert eagle, it was mostly a precaution set by myself in case I was in a position where a bat wasn’t the best. Dying was a pretty scary experience, I knew respawn was working perfectly and it wouldn’t be a permeant endeavour, but that first death on the field shook me for the rest of the day. After an evening talking to the guys and a long night of sleep, I felt better; that wouldn’t be the first time I die while being in this line of work, and everyone else on the team brushes it off like a scrape on the knee.

 

Another development over the past week has been the relationship between Spy and I, he would talk to me when no one was around and occasionally slip in that flirty humour of his. I hadn’t completely relaxed around him just yet, but at the same time his presence was calming, his words wrapping me in a secure and warm feeling. Not long into my second week, he invited me to join him in his smoking room for a drink.

 

“Please, chéri, take a seat,” he motions towards a plush armchair in front of a large fireplace, “What would you like to drink?”

 

I tell him my preference before seating myself, accepting the drink he hands me as I watch him sit across from me. He takes a sip of his own drink – presumably whiskey, on account of its dark colour and strong smell – and I turn my eyes to the fireplace, raising the glass to my lips to do the same.

 

“You have done well this week, (Y/N), RED will be winning without question by the end of the week.”

 

“Well I can’t take all the credit, if you hadn’t saved my ass from that BLU Soldier then I never would have tagged that BLU Sniper,” I chuckled, remembering how I ran screaming from the crazy military man and his ramblings of ‘Get back here, you hippie!’ and ‘You can run, but my bullets are faster!’

 

Spy only smiled at this, said smile turning into a blank expression mere seconds later. It seemed like he was thinking, wondering what to say next, “Mon cher, I do not mean to pry, but a question has been on my mind,” he looked at me, waiting for an answer. Looking at him in acknowledgment, he continued, “You and your brother seem to have vastly different views on the topic of your father.”

 

The mention of my father caused me to drop my gaze to the glass in my hand, it shouldn’t surprise me that Spy would be asking about this, he likes secrets, he is a Spy after all.

 

Finishing the remainder of my dink in one gulp, I reply to his statement, “That’s because he doesn’t know who he is. I think he’d rather believe that he died long ago over knowing that he’s the son of the BLU Spy.”

 

“Ah, so you do know,” I raise an eyebrow at him, “Everyone knows, everyone except Scout, of course. I’d have thought that would have been obvious after Heavy’s clever comment.”

 

I tilt my head in agreement as he stands from his seat, taking my glass to refill it. After he reseats himself I continue, “I found out a few years ago, helping Ma clean up some of the clutter around the house. I found a box of old photos and letters, she wasn’t too surprised that I’d found out either, she told me the truth and only asked that I don’t tell Scout. I can understand why, he’s not exactly the most level-headed person in the world.”

 

“And that is why you do not trust me?”

 

Alarmed at his statement, I stare at him wide-eyed. Had I been that obvious, or was he just that good at reading people? “How did you know I didn’t?”

 

He chuckles, “I didn’t, but I do now,” I roll my eyes, but can’t keep the smile from spreading across my face. That was a smart move, sneaky, but smart.

 

“Well, I think it’s not really fair, you know so much about me and I know very little about you. C’mon, tell me something about yourself, anything at all.”

 

He smirked before listing off small details about himself, nothing like family or his life before becoming a merc, things like his favourite weapons, his $9,000 silk tie, his preferred brand of cigarettes and the fact that some of his teeth are false – hollowed out to contain items that would be useful in tight situations. The last one had me giggling as I pictured what useful items could possibly fit inside of containers that small.

 

“What? You wouldn’t be laughing if we were in danger and our only hope resided in one of my molars,” I could tell he was teasing me now, the smirk directed my way made that obvious.

 

Calming myself enough to speak, I shake my head and take a sip of my drink, “No, you’re right. I’ll have to hope you and your molars can come to my rescue.”

 

“Anytime you need help, I shall come to save you and your daddy issues.”

 

“I do not have ‘daddy issues’, that would be Scout.”

 

The back and forth banter had left us both snickering at each other, and before long the room was filled with a relaxing silence while we both watched the fire burn. He wasn’t as bad as I had originally thought, he’s still quite the mystery, but overall, he seems like a decent person. My eyes drifted back to him, scanning his face and seeing a content expression through the holes in his mask, blue eyes shining in the light of the fire. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something drew me to him, the French charm that would lure in any unsuspecting victim, maybe? Or the understanding nature he had over my family situation?

 

Seemingly sensing my eyes on him, he turned his head slightly, returning my gaze. If I wasn’t lost in thought, almost lost in those eyes, I’d probably be embarrassed that I was caught staring, but I couldn’t turn away. He hummed in amusement, standing from his seat and once again taking my glass.

 

“My dear, I think you need another drink.”

 

 

I wasn’t sure when we had reached my bedroom door, I had been too focused on his mouth as it travelled up and down my neck. His hands had a vice grip on my waist and pressed me into the door while mine were holding onto his shoulders, occasionally wandering towards his back before going down his arms. I quickly reached out to my right, searching for the doorknob as Spy gently took my skin between his teeth only to pull away as he steadied us both, the door now open and nothing but Spy’s arm around my waist keeping me from falling backwards.

 

We shuffled into the room, lips interlocked and pressed close to each other. I push the door closed and turn the lock, ensuring that no one can enter uninvited before I’m once again pressed against the wood. Both of Spy’s hands are pressed against the small of my back, pulling my midsection closer and deepening the kiss until I’m struggling to breathe, forcing me to press my hands against is chest and lightly push him away. He moves back slightly, resting his forehead against mine as he watches me gasp for air, a small smirk on his lips.

 

“Wait a second, mon cher,” Looking up at his face, he moved away until he was two feet away from me, “Don’t you think it is a little strange? Doing such things with a man who resembles your father in many ways,” his smile was gone, face now harbouring a questioning expression.

 

“Well, I didn’t think you’d be one to care about details, so long as you had a body to sleep next to at night,” I chuckled, not really expecting him to suddenly be so serious.

 

“Believe it or not, mon chéri, I can be more romantic than you are giving me credit for,” there was a hint of teasing in his voice, but he was telling the truth.

 

I sighed, looking him in the eyes and taking a step forward, “Scout’s told me about you, along with others on the team. He may not be your number one fan but from his letters and what I’ve seen, you’re far from the man that my father is,” I keep moving forward until there’s only a hairs breath between us, “Like I said, I don’t have daddy issues. This isn’t me spiting my father, I genuinely want to get to know you, Spy.”

 

He searched my eyes, looking for a hint of a lie, and I knew he wouldn’t find any. The ghost of a smile passed over his lips as he ducked his head down, capturing mine as an arm wound its way around my middle.

 

 

Feeling the warmth of the sun and calloused fingertips drawing patters up and down my exposed back, I begin to stretch, popping a few bones in my back and legs. Without opening my eyes, I nuzzle my face into Spy’s neck, smiling brightly at the position we were in. His arm was wrapped around my back, holding me to his side while my arm extended over his chest and my hand rested between his shoulder and neck. One of my legs was still curled between his, one of his feet slowly stroking the back of my leg, only causing my smile to grow.

 

“Well, good morning,” the smooth French accent reached my ears.

 

Humming in reply, I look up and see him smiling down at me, his arm tightening around me while his other hand reaches over to brush a stray strand of hair away from my face. Pulling myself upwards, I place my lips against his, turning my head slightly to deepen it straight away.

 

“Very good morning, indeed,” I chuckled, pulling away. I turned slightly so that my upper torso pressed against Spy’s, my hands resting just over his collarbones and my face now right before his, “We don’t have anything to do today, right? We can be selfish and stay like this for another hour or so?”

 

“Luckily, no, we do not.”

 

 

These escapades continued for weeks, most of them would be spent in my room, that way no one could question why I was leaving Spy’s bedroom the next morning, but that didn’t stop us from occasionally spending the night there. It was clear to both of us that it was more than just sex, if I wasn’t just a little bit scared to admit it out loud, I’d probably say I was falling for the man behind the mask. I had already told him that I wanted to know him, I wasn’t just looking for a one night stand, and thankfully that wasn’t what it was to him either.

 

Tonight, we laid in his bed – me, laying on my front with nothing covering my bare body and Spy, sat against the headboard with the quilt covering everything below his waist as he puffed on one of his signature cigarettes.

 

“Votre cul est parfait,” he muttered in his mother tongue as his eyes scanned my being.

 

“That sounded beautiful.”

 

“I was complementing your rear end, mon cher,” he smirked.

 

Pushing myself into a sitting position, I faced him with a loving glint in my eyes and a grin on my lips, “It came from you, so it was still a beautiful compliment.”

 

He laughed lightly at my comment, raising his arm to allow me access to his side and placing it over my back and resting his hand on my waist. My head rested against his chest, giving me the opportunity to listen to his heartbeat, the soothing sound almost sending me to sleep.

 

“Tired?” Spy chuckles.

 

I merely hum my answer, offering an ‘mm-hm’. Placing my arm over his stomach, I pull myself closer to him, burying my head further into his chest.

 

Yeah, I was definitely falling in love with this man.


	3. Expiration Date

**Reader’s POV**

 

Laying in the hot water and scented bubbles of my bath, I contemplated the past few months. Working with the team was undoubtedly one of the best experiences in my life, they’re all so animated and fun to be around, I can’t even remember the last time I was bored.

 

Spy, he was another story, and while he wasn’t as hyperactive as the rest of the team, he was a mystery I had constantly been trying to solve. I felt like I’d known him most of my life, yet at the same time I barely know a thing about him. I felt unbelievably safe with him though, the way he’d wrap his arms around me in the morning, the flirtatious humour when he teased me in French, the sneaky wink he would throw my way at the most inappropriate of times – like out in the field after ‘coincidentally’ bumping into me.

 

The masked man made me happier in two months than I remember being in years.

 

Climbing slowly out of the lukewarm water, I step on the bathmat and grab a towel to wrap around my wet body. Heavy, Scout and Soldier should be back from their mission to capture a briefcase soon, and everyone would likely already be waiting in the workshop for them. Now wearing a plain red shirt and dark jeans, I start making my way through the halls to the workshop.

 

Upon entering the room, I can see Medic and Engie discussing something in a private conversation while Demo makes his way towards the teleporter in the corner, Heavy is investigating the fridge and Soldier is clambering his way out of the RED Bread truck where Scout is slumped back in the passenger seat, a defeated expression on his face.

 

“Asking out that dial tone again, I see,” Spy smirks as he walks past the younger man.

 

“Go to hell, Spy!” he replies before slinking his way over to Medic and Engie, “Hey, look at all this! What have you two eggheads been workin’ on?” throwing the keys to the van in their direction, neither of them decide to catch them, letting them hit the table before them, “Nice… catch…”

 

Turning away from their conversation, I make my way over to Spy, who is leaning against the outer railing of the stairs. Propping my arms on top of the railing and leaning over slightly so I could whisper in his ear, “Good afternoon.”

 

The corners of his mouth tilted up slightly, but before he could reply a shrill scream came from Scout.

 

“What the hell is that!?” he was looking fearfully at the loaf of bread Medic had just broken in half, and who could blame him, the questionable green lumps inside looked disgusting.

 

Medic looked at everyone before announcing happily: “Tumours!”

 

“Y’all know what this mean, right?” Engie piped up, interrupted by a screaming Soldier who had now pinned Scout to the table with his fist raised.

 

“We cannot teleport bread anymore!”

 

“Whoa!” the shorter man raised his hands to calm the man, “Not exactly, Soldier. You teleport as much bread as you like, that goes for all of ya. If there’s anything y’all wanted to do before you, well, died, now would be a… good time.”

 

“How long before these tumours kill us?” Spy asked, pulling the cigarette from his lips.

 

Medic lowered his head as he took a step closer to Spy, mumbling his calculations, “Well, let’s see. We all use the teleporter, let’s say six times a day, times four years, minus we’re not bread… hm… three day! We all have three days to live!”

 

This had everyone in the room looking directly at him, shock eminent on everyone’s faces. The silence was quickly broken, however, by a howling Demo who made his appearance on the teleporter on the table, carrying a case of beer and wearing a sombrero.

 

“Whoooo! Whooo… whoo. What?”

 

 

Medic had told everyone that due to my presence on the team only spanning over a couple months, it was highly unlikely that I had these tumours like everyone else, and even if I did, they wouldn’t be killing me any time soon. Knowing this is what scared me, as mercenaries we aren’t built to fear death, but these people I had come to see as family would be gone in no time at all. I would be alone.

 

70 Hours Left.

 

We were all gathered in the common room, in the back corner surrounding the round table that was usually used for games of poker.

 

“This,” Spy said as he placed a silver bucket on the table, “Is a bucket.”

 

“Dear God,” Soldier said in disbelief.

 

“There’s more.”

 

“No…”

 

Standing off to the side, I tried to hide a giggle at the display, Spy remaining serious while Soldier was baffled by something as simple as a bucket.

 

Spy continued, “It contains the dying wish of every man here. Scout, you did collect everyone’s dying wish?”

 

“Oh, you bet,” he saluted the older man.

 

“Excellent. Gentlemen,” he turned to everyone else around the table, “Synchronize your death watches. We have seventy hours to live, for most men, no time at all. We are not most men… we are mercenaries! We have the resources, the will to make these hours count! The clock is ticking, gentlemen. Let’s begin.”

 

Again, I was giving him that loving gaze and I was thankful that he was too busy giving his speech to notice. If he had looked me in the eyes at that moment, I might not be able to look as tough as I’ve been acting.

 

Reaching into the bucket, he pulls out a few pieces of paper, “Our first dying wish is Scout’s! He’s… drawn a picture of me, getting hit by a car… I have something radiating off of me.”

 

“Yeah, those are stink lines!” my brother stated, turning to the rest of the group, “That’s why the car hit him! Because he smells,” I rolled my eyes at him, even in a time like this, he couldn’t be a little more mature.

 

“Yes, I see,” Spy continued, looking slightly exasperated, “Here you’ve drawn me having sexual congress with the Eiffel Tower… Eiffel Tower having sexual congress with me… Both of us relaxing post-coitus… I’m crying and the Eiffel Tower has stink lines coming off of it- Did anyone besides Scout put a card into the bucket!?”

 

I closed my eyes and shook my head as I heard my older brother mutter: “Oh, man, classic Scout,” I could tell Spy was getting tired of this.

 

“Fantastic, this was a huge waste of my time,” he sighed.

 

“You did not read mine!” Soldier exclaimed, holding up a piece of card with his name on it.

 

“Does it say you want the bucket-“

 

“Yes!”

 

Pushing the bucket towards the larger man, he huffed, “See you all in hell!” taking out a cigarette, he looks at me after everyone else had already left the room.

 

Walking closer, I smiled gently at him, “I’m not dying in seventy hours, and I didn’t write it down, but I have a wish.”

 

He raised an eyebrow at me, his tired eyes showing me that he was interested in what I had to say, “Oh? And what is that, my dear?”

 

“To make a Frenchman happy in his final dying hours?” it sounded more like a question, meant as a suggestion that he could either accept or brush away. But, Spy being Spy, wouldn’t possibly pass up on the opportunity to spend time with the woman he cares about.

 

Smirking at what I had suggested, he asks: “And what would you have in mind?”

 

 

58 Hours Left.

 

Twelve hours, that’s how long had passed since the guys had set their watches, and like I said, I wanted to spend those hours making a Frenchman happy. We had spent some of that time in the privacy of my bedroom, either pleasuring each other or simply laying down, exchanging pillow talk. He was the best distraction at hand, helping me forget that in fifty-eight hours he would be gone, and I would without a doubt be reduced to a weeping mess.

 

Currently, we were sat back in his smoking room, me seated comfortably on his lap, my head in the crook of his neck while one of his hands rubbed my hip and the other lifted a glass to his mouth. I was running on maybe two hours sleep at most, not wanting to miss a second of being with the man I cared so deeply for. It almost felt like I was betraying Scout, as his biological family I should be spending as much time with him as possible, right? But then again, he wasn’t exactly the sentimental type.

 

A knock at the door ripped me away from those thoughts as I quickly rose from Spy’s lap, walking over to the table inhabited by various alcoholic beverages.

 

“Go away!” he snapped behind me, indicating to the person knocking that they weren’t welcome.

 

Despite his words, the door opened with a creak and Scout popped his body halfway into the room, “Hey… uh, you got a second?” he sounded apprehensive.

 

“Oh, Scout! Please,” Spy’s voice picked up there, a mix between delight and sarcasm, “Go fuck yourself.”

 

I turned my head away from my sibling as I smiled, Spy’s comment striking my funny bone.

 

“Yeah, hah… that’s, that’s funny,” the boy mumbled, “Anyway, I- Ow!”

 

Facing the door, I see Spy pinning it closed on Scout’s head while holding his beloved knife to his chest, ready if he tried anything stupid.

 

“Wait, wait, wait, Spy! I’m wedging my head through a door here to tell you I’m sorry!”

 

Rolling his eyes, the tall man moves away from the door, fixing his tie as Scout stumbles to catch himself. When he saw me further in the dark room, he shot me a questioning glance, silently asking why I was alone with Spy in his private room.

 

“Make it quick,” Spy demanded, seeing that my brother and I were having some sort of stare-down.

 

Remembering why he was there, Scout turned to the spy, “So, I-I did write down a last wish… I’d, uh, like to go on a date with… Miss Pauling.”

 

“You? You’re terrible with girls.”

 

“What? No, no, no, Spy! Look at this, and this, and this hair! Look at all of this!” he gestured to himself, “No, I am great with girls,” he said, proud of himself. For some reason, I couldn’t picture it myself, but I continued to listen to his babbling, “But you, Spy, you are amazing with ladies. You know, classy ones, that smell good and… and always have their glasses a just kinda crooked. You know, ones that… don’t go for a guy like me.”

 

Spy hummed, “And why is that, do you think?”

 

“C’mon, Spy, I don’t know.”

 

“Well, a mystery we will take to our graves then. Goodbye,” he started making his way over to me, or more specifically, the table of drinks behind me.

 

“Wait, wait, wait! Agh! Okay, look, fine, Spy,” before he finishes his statement, he looks at me too, “This never leaves this room… You… are better than me, alright? I need your help.”

 

Spy waits a second before turning his head, “I’ll do it, on one condition,” he presses a small red button near the edge of the table and a microphone appears from a gap in the tables surface. Blowing into the mic, he turns to Scout, “Say that… again,” and there it is, that winning smirk.

 

 

51 Hours Left.

 

After the agreement between Spy and Scout had taken place, Spy demanded that I get a few hours rest, not taking no for an answer and promising to wake me up when Scout’s ‘training’ would begin. He’d waited until Scout left the room to start doting over me, but not before joking about the irony of the situation – Scout asking the man his sister is sleeping with for help on how to romanticise women.

 

Like he had promised, Spy woke me up shortly before meeting my brother in the training gym. I took a seat on one of the exercise benches as Scout once again looked at me questioningly, probably wondering why I was once again around the spy.

 

Scout diverted his attention from me to look at Spy, who was straightening out items placed on a trolley. After clearing his throat to get the man’s attention, Spy pushed the trolley gently towards him, waiting for it to stop before speaking.

 

“Seduce me.”

 

The younger man looked around the room, as if making sure no one else was watching them, “You?”

 

“Seduce me,” Spy repeated, sounding less patient.

 

“What? Spy, I ain’t gonna-“

 

“Seduce me!”

 

“Right! Right, okay…” that was enough to get the boy to move to the trolley and pick up the red and white bucket of chicken legs. With a huff, he prepared himself, sauntering closer to Spy, “Okay… Hey there… good lookin’. I got a bucket of chicken-”

 

Before he could continue, Spy had slapped the bucket out of his hands, sending him backwards as he put on his little show, “I’m not one of your fried chicken tramps! I’m a woman, I like my men dangerous, mysterious,” he was now dancing slightly with the crash dummy that had been hung up beside him, moving it as if it were the woman Scout should be winning over, “You want to be my lover!? Earn it! Seduce me!” the finishing line was delivered with the hand of the dummy striking Scout across the face. From the smirk on Spy’s face, he was obviously having fun.

 

The next forty-nine hours were spent teaching Scout how to dine, dance and generally act like a gentleman. Spy would use me as an example while making Scout practice with the dummy, ranging from how to compliment your date to where you place your hands when dancing. Needless to say, Scout wasn’t pleased seeing the Frenchman’s hands on me, or how affectionate his words were when he complimented me.

 

“Mon chéri, you are the most beautiful creature on this earth. Would you care to join me for dinner?” he said, his head bowed low to place a kiss against the back of my hand. Something in his tone told me that he wasn’t just demonstrating, paired with the way he was looking at me, it felt like he’d meant it.

 

“Okay, I gotta ask,” Scout started after Spy had given him permission to take a short break, “What the hell is going on with you and the frog?” we were sat in the empty training gym, Spy probably outside getting some fresh air and a cigarette, enjoying his time away from Scout.

 

“Oh, shut up. It’s just Spy, he’s not gonna kill me,” I light-heartedly joke.

 

“Maybe not, but he is a sneaky, secretive and manipulative French guy! Look, (Y/N), you know I’m just lookin’ out for you. I don’t want you to fall for that French charm crap and get your heart broken,” his words sounded twice as sad after he looked away, like he was scared to show how much he cared for his ‘baby sister’.

 

Huffing with a small smile, I wrap an arm around him in a side hug, placing my head on his shoulder, “You’ll always be my big brother, Scout. Nothing’s going to change that. But I’m a big girl now, I can handle myself, whether we’re out kicking BLU ass or I’m dating someone. I promise you, if I ever need my big brothers help, I’ll ask.”

 

Accepting my statement, he chuckled, wrapping his arm around me like I had him, “Yeah, okay.”

 

“Okay, ladies, break time is over,” Spy announced as he entered the room, grinning widely at his witty comment.

 

 

2 Hours Left.

 

Lights blared down towards Scout in the otherwise pitch black room, Spy slowly approaching him in the middle of the boxing ring. I stood on the outside below the light fixtures, awaiting Spy’s final test to see if my brother was ready.

 

“Final question,” Spy began, “You have a dinner date for seven, what time do you arrive?”

 

“Seven. A.M. Case the restaurant, run background checks on the staff. Can the cook be trusted? If not, I gotta kill him. Dispose of the body, replace him with my own guy, no later than four-thirty,” he said, determination in his eyes.

 

Spy stopped and looked at him, smiling, “You’re ready.”

 

“Really?” Scout said, hopefully.

 

Chuckling, the older man says: “No, everything you just said was insane and we are out of time,” he handed him a glass of whiskey, “Congratulations, you’re a failure.”

 

“Oh,” Scout stated as he tried to stand up, forgetting to slide out from underneath the school desk, quickly correcting himself, “I failed, did I?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did I?”

 

“Yes,” Spy pushed, sounding agitated.

 

“Did I?”

 

“Scout, where is this going?”

 

“Where it’s going is, I don’t need you. I’ll put this date on myself,” he pointed at Spy.

 

He raised a brow at this, “Yourself?”

 

“That’s right, fancy pants, myself!” he carried on, ignoring the look on Spy’s face, “So, why don’t you take your little failure, roll it up sideways and-“ seeing the man point at his death clock, he concluded, “Okay, crap. I gotta go,” before finishing his drink and placing in on the desk, “Screw you, though.”

 

And like that, he was gone, rushing off to do god knows what.

 

“Perhaps,” I begin, climbing into the ring, “You were a little hard on him.”

 

“He wanted my help and I provided,” placing his hand on my lower back, he started pushing me towards the door, “Come, let’s go see what he plans to do.”

 

 

1 Hour Left.

 

We had taken a seat in the control room, watching the monitors as red lights and alarms filled the base; You had to hand it to Scout, it was a creative way of getting Miss Pauling’s attention. She had just arrived when Scout had finished setting up the scene for his date, barging into him with a shotgun.

 

“We can fix this,” we heard through the mic connected to the camera recording them, “We’ll get it back and the Administrator never has to know.”

 

“You look- you look… uh…” Scout stumbled, looking for the right word.

 

“Drunk!” Demo shouted beside me, almost making me jump.

 

“Round! Soft!” Spy rolled his eyes as Soldier attempted to contribute, ”No, round!”

 

“Blurry!” Demo, again, blurted out.

 

“Ravishing,” we heard through the monitor, Scout’s good choice of words causing Spy to look up again, hopeful that he had gotten through to the boy. It took a slightly awkward turn as Pauling asked if he was having a prom, everyone besides Soldier watching in anticipation and confusion.

 

We were pulled away from the display by the sound of a door opening behind us, Engie hanging on the frame.

 

“Guys!” Engie called, “Hey fellas, listen! It’s just bread that gets tumours,” he announced happily.

 

Medic peered around the corner, “It’s not even tumours. It’s some form of self-aware beauty mark that only metastasizes in an environment of pure wheat. Here, watch this,” he started shaking a jar that contained a loaf of bread that appeared to have grown teeth and made displeased noises, “Oh, look, he hates me so much.”

 

Hearing this, I almost sob as I release a relieved breath. I should have known better than to believe anything could take down this team of hazardous fools. Spy seems to hear my relieved sigh as he places a hand on my back, slowly rubbing small, comforting circles.

 

As Medic laughs over his discovery, Engie walks over, placing his arms around Medic and Soldier, “So, we’re fine. As long as nobody teleports any bread.”

 

“Question,” Soldier butted in.

 

“What’s your question, Soldier?” Engie asked, his southern accent evident in his happy tone.

 

“I teleported bread.”

 

“What?” his voice now deadly serious.

 

“You told me to,” the large man stated matter-of-factly.

 

Engineer was now pointing at the soldier, who leaned away, “How much?” he said slowly.

 

Soldier looked at his gloved gunslinger before looking back up, “I have done nothing but teleport bread for three days.”

 

“Where!?” Medic demanded, throwing the jar on the floor, “Where have you been sending it!?”

 

Suddenly, the whole building shook and seconds later what sounded like a roar came from where Scout and Miss Pauling were. We all made our way down the halls, meeting the rest of the team on the way down to the old mineshafts below the building where the giant bread creature had fallen, taking Miss Pauling and Scout with it.

 

Once there, we all split off into various positions to attack the beast from every angle, however it seemed to be too fast and too strong. Pyro’s attempts at burning it were fruitless and Scout was sent flying after Sniper shot the green tendril suspending him in the air, Medic was close behind a super-charged Heavy, however his bullets seemed to have no effect on the creature. I had stationed myself across from Sniper, a good vantage point to shoot from without being in close proximity to the mutated monster.

 

Looking around for Scout, I spot him near the blast doors, talking to a smiling Spy who pointed towards Miss Pauling before running off. Scout runs over to Miss Pauling, saying something to her before she replies and starts pointing to his death watch. I wasn’t sure what happened afterwards because I was almost knocked off my ledge by a box sailing through the air, my reflexes kicking in and causing me to roll out of the way, evidently making me slip from the spot I had been standing on. Luckily, a swift Spy had been waiting beneath me, preventing me from colliding with the stone ground.

 

Miss Pauling and Scout strode past at that moment, pushing a very large bomb that had ‘Danger Bomb’ written in white paint on the front. Scout seemed to be rambling about his feelings for the woman and how this mess started, but she seemed pre-occupied with assessing the situation.

 

“Guys! Close the blast doors!” she shouted over the roars of the monster.

 

At that, everyone started retreating behind said doors, Heavy holding them open, leaving enough room for the final two to escape through. That plan was quickly abandoned when the bomb was launched at the doors, trapping Pauling and Scout on the other side. I shouted for him, trying to see if he was alright, but the sound of the bread creature was too overwhelming.

 

“(Y/N), get back!” Spy said as he pulled me far away from the doors, turning me away and pressing his chest to my back and holding me close. Looking at his watch, there were only three seconds left. Two. One.

 

It took a few seconds for the ringing in my ears to stop. Spy was still holding me close and I could see him trying to say something.

 

“-alright? (Y/N), are you alright?” nodding, I let him know I was fine. The ringing had stopped and I could hear Heavy opening the broken doors. Walking through them, I looked at the destruction, piles of mutant bread scattered all over and burnt wood inhabited the space.

 

“Good news! We’re not dying! We are going to live forever!” Soldiers muffled voice came from inside the giant bread carcase. When did he end up in there?

 

“I didn’t say that!” Medic proclaimed as Heavy lifted the mouth of the monster open, unveiling the three inside, “I just said we’re not filled with tumours!”

 

“Oh, thank god!” Scout sighed before going back to talking to Miss Pauling.

 

I smiled happily at the scene, all his attempts really weren’t for nothing. Turning away, I make my way over to Spy who was happily pulling out a cigarette and examining the damages.

 

“Well,” I breathed, “That happened.”

 

He chuckled at my statement, putting an arm around my shoulders and helping me over the rubble.

 

 

The night after we’d all finished cleaning up the bread incident, I jokingly suggested to Spy that we relax by sharing a bath, although he seemed more than enthusiastic at the idea and agreed. With candles spread around the bathroom to create a romantic atmosphere, we both settled into the hot water, Spy laying back while I sat in front against is chest.

 

“Darling, would you do me a favour,” he whispered in my ear while my head rested against his shoulder. I hummed in acknowledgment, letting him know I was listening, “Would you mind pulling my mask off for me?”

 

The question stunned me, leaving me with wide eyes and a loss of breath. Carefully sitting up, I turn my upper body to look him in the eye, I knew he was protective of his identity and had to make sure he was telling the truth. He actually wanted to show me his face.

 

Slowly reaching up, running my fingers over the side of his neck for a moment before moving up, I slip my forefinger beneath the mask and start pulling upwards. After the mask was gone I threw it to the side so it would be safe from the water, and only then did I look at him – the lines around his face that accentuated his cheek bones and the crease between his eyes, the greying stubble spanning across his bottom jaw and around his mouth, even the grey around the edges of his otherwise black hair. To keep it simple, he was pretty hot.

 

Smirking at my staring eyes, he said: “I wasn’t lying to you before, you really are the most beautiful creature I have ever met.”

 

Blinking at him, I’m lost for words. The moment felt so intimate and I didn’t know what words would be good enough, “Jeez, Spy, you’re making me blush.”

 

“Je t'aime,” he whispered before pressing a slow, delicate kiss to my lips.

 

After he pulls away slightly, I chuckle, “About time…” then looking into his eyes, I say with more confidence: “I love you too, mysterious man.”

 

 

“… Scout is going to lose it.”


End file.
